The Poison of the Serpents
by FAIRxxVIEW
Summary: A fiction based around the hostility between Marcus & Wood. NO SLASH. NO ROMANCE. Pure angst, whump and team hurt/comfort. Not for Slytherine lovers. Takes place in Harry Potter's first or second year. Read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters.

* * *

**WOOD POV**

The crowd was roaring with excitement as the game prepared to begin. I had my eyes fixed firmly on the goals, knowing just where I had to go to when the game begins. And so, I went. I felt the familiar thrill of the game beginning, but knew that it was more than just a game now. It was life or only way to survive was to win. The games were never as intense with Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Slytherine fought fiercer, dirtier, and tougher. I do not allow my team to play dirty. That is where we differ.

I blocked two goals by the time the score was 40-0, Griffindor. I could practically see Flint seething mad and blowing steam out of his ears. Cockiness was not a trait of mine. However, I hated Flint. As much as I hated being cocky, I hated him even more and did enjoy angering him.

That's when things began to heat up. Two of our chasers were taken out in "freak accidents". We were outnumbered greatly. It seemed all the quaffle did was come flying my way. I did my best to push it back but eventually the score became 40-40 and I was exhausted from going back and forth. However, I was on a blocking streak. Flint had thrown the quaffle at least six times and hadn't made a single goal. That made me smile. I hoped Potter would find the snitch soon though. I wasn't sure how long I could keep taking this. That thought had just gone through my mind when something large and heavy slammed into me and I collided with the pole of a goal hard enough to almost fall off my broom. The Slytherine captain held me pinned until someone passed the quaffle through the hoop.

"Bloody dirty players," I snarled at him. Roughly, he knocked me hard against the pole before taking off. Struggling to get back my balance, I followed to circle the goals once more. No one had called a foul, although the majority of the stands were calling out in protest.

_Ugh. We're taking a beating, _I thought, grimacing as I looked at what remained of my time. We were down two players and the enemy was most certainly playing dirty.

But... yes! One of our chasers had the ball and was about to pass it through... I cringed as a Slytherine player kicked her in the ribs and she was knocked away. They were coming back towards me, and I immediately began to prepare. I watched to make sure no one was going to take me out again... and then they threw it. All I saw was the ball. I shot towards it, arm outstretched. It would be close. I saw something coming towards me in the corner of my eye, but that could wait. I'd knock the quaffle away and then get tackled again.

Pain exploded in my arm and shoulder, and strangely, my chest. I cried out, gripping the arm tightly towards myself as the bludger smashed into my shoulder and promptly shoved me out of the way. I was spinning without control and once again collided with a pole. It was broken. Right from my shoulder blade and a little ways down my arm to my elbow. I could feel it. Gritting me teeth, I realized I was seeing stars. Slowly I gathered my wits, beginning to move away from the pole I had been half leaning against. I couldn't move my arm. I could feel nothing below the elbow, and everything above it felt like someone had smashed it to pieces. The bludger had a nasty bite.

"Watch where you're going next time!" Flint sneered as he darted past.

My balance was completely changed. I struggled to keep myself upright. With only one capable hand on the broom, I felt like I was going to fall off at any moment. Not to mention I found it increasingly difficult to try and block the quaffle. Out of the next four throws I only managed to block one. _Come on Potter. Get the snitch already. _I hated relying on the kid like that, but right now all I wanted to do was lie down in my dorm and sleep the pain away.

That's when someone hit me again. I spun through the air, barely hanging on to my broom. I tried to pull free but before I knew it, my back was once again pressed into the pole as Flint grinned coldly into my face. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he grabbed me by both shoulders and pushed me against the metal. I cried out as he squeezed on my broken shoulder bone.

He gave me a strange look, mixed with something akin to hostility and... concern? That couldn't be right. He hated me. He laughed at the site of my failures and pains. Why was he frowning now?

"Move!" I spat, pushing against him as hard as possible. He barely budged, only eyed me with amused anger before jabbing my shoulder and forcing me to let out a very muffled whimper. Only then did he back off, shoving me forward rather hard. I had neither hand on my broom and wasn't fast enough. When my broomstick jerked, it flipped to the side and suddenly I was sliding off. I tried to grab the end of the broom but my hand closed around nothing. And then I was falling. It wasn't the first time. But the last couple of times I had still had a grip on my broomstick which had slowed my descent.

Now I was free-falling, a stomach-wrenching 40 feet to the ground. I thought someone screamed my name before everything went black in a brief flash of shock.

* * *

**POTTER POV**

I saw it all. Saw them take out two of our chasers. I was watching the sky as much as possible - and the Slytherine seeker - for the snitch so we could end this. I saw how hard Wood was working to keep them from getting a goal. He was exhausted. We were going to lose unless I catch the snitch first.

I watched, wincing slightly, as Flint barreled into the much smaller Wood, smashing my captain into the pole of the hoop, holding him there until someone scored.

Anger swept through me as Flint took off and Wood seemed to be moving a little more slowly than before. My attention turned back to finding the snitch. It had to be here. Scouring around, I soon got distracted again. Something small and fast was moving towards Flint who was reaching out to bat the ball out of the way. It was too late to say anything. The bludger smashed into his shoulder and sent him rolling and spinning through the air, stopping against the pole as he grabbed one arm in clear pain.

My anger grew as I saw the Slytherine team high-five one another like they had done something great. Didn't they know that people _felt_pain?

I began to head towards him, watching in dismay as he slowly raised himself back up to join in again. He was pushing himself too far, I knew. He was clearly injured and the enemy didn't seem to care who they hurt.

Fred and George began to circle him protectively, planning to keep away both bludgers and people. Apparently it didn't work as well as they'd hoped. Two Slytherine players knocked them both out of the way before Flint - who apparently had quite a grudge against Wood - crashed into him again. This time, I had a very bad feeling. _Something_wasn't right. When Flint finally backed off, he shoved Wood forward. I watched in horror as Wood lost his balance and began to fall - his broom falling away from him - to the ground. I went forward, desperate to catch him, but knew I wouldn't even get close.

"Wood!" I screamed.

I was still ten feet away when Wood hit the ground at full speed, lying completely limp in the sand.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters.

* * *

**WOOD POV**

When I woke, I was aware of a strange numbness throughout my entire body. I felt heavy - weighed down - like my body was made of stone. I couldn't feel. I tried to move, just lightly twitch something, and there was no response. I couldn't even open my eyes. Strangely, I wasn't able to feel fear - or anything, actually. All that I could feel was a simple calm, like I was supposed to be here. I couldn't explain it. I wondered for a moment if I was dead. The last moments of my consciousness flashed through my mind. I had fallen a great distance. I should be dead. Any normal person would have died from a fall of that height. Though I guess it was worth a mention of where I landed. In the grass? On the rocks? On the soft sand? If I had landed in the soft sand, there was a chance.

Over time I became aware of sounds. My body was beginning to tingle with feeling, though only on my right side. That _was_ my right side, wasn't it? Had I hit my head? My brain felt foggy. Maybe I was just sleeping still. But no. I could hear people talking. Familiar voices. Very hushed.  
_  
_Eventually I began to get feeling of my lower left body. I couldn't feel my left arm, shoulder and half of my chest. That made me nervous. It was like it didn't even exist. I realized, as my feeling began to return, so did my nerve awareness. Ouch. I ached just about everywhere. In some places it was a distant bruising ache. In other it felt like I had been kicked. Or hit with a hammer. Then there were places that didn't just ache. They hurt! What I could feel of my chest was a fire. It burned through flesh and organs, sending rolling knots of pain throughout my body and twisting my stomach. Sucking in a breath, I tried not to make a sound. When I released it, however, it came out in a muffled groan.

The room immediately went silent around me.

I had to open my eyes. I could feel them too. Forcibly each lid opened like it weighed several tons. My eyes were unfocused and I could define no shapes or colours, but just an assortment of everything. I let my eyes shut again, my breathing betraying my discomfort yet again. Something shifted. Words were muttered. Numbness spread over my side. The intense pain faded, leaving only the tolerable ache in the rest of me.

Opening my eyes again, I had a bit more control over my vision. Things had blurry outlines. I could tell the shadow of a person, but I could not understand the background. As of now I had no idea who the people were.

Teachers? Doctors? Professors? Maybe other students?

I blinked.

Relief. I could make such simple functions.

Could I form words? I tried. No. My mouth didn't respond to me. I could feel it but it was still too heavy. Blinking a few more times I was able to tell colours apart. And now I could see who was who. Fred. George. Not sure which was which but they were both here. All the team, actually. Even Harry. Madame Pomfrey was standing a little ways off. Professor McGonagall was there too. The look on her face told me something was wrong. That or someone had disappointed her lately. Had we lost the game? Surely I hadn't disappointed her? Perhaps I should have tried harder.

I coughed as I struggled to find my voice.

"What happened?" My voice sounded so pathetically weak and raspy that I felt embarrassed and began to cough again. Immediately Madame Pomfrey put a glass of water to my lips. I started to reach for it to grab it but realized my hand was shaking so hard I wouldn't be able to grip it. My throat was parched. I just noticed.

"Thank you," I responded politely once I had finished.

"Well..." Fred or George began, hesitating a little. I felt a stone in my chest as I waited. They _never_hesitated to speak. It couldn't be that bad, could it? "Madame Hooch cancelled the game after you fell. Everyone knew they were playing dirty. And... everyone thought you were dead. You got lucky though," he said quickly.

Cancelled the game? Has that even ever happened before?

I could at least feel grateful I was still alive though. That was good. "Okay... is everyone else alright?" I vaguely remembered a couple of my team being taken out before me.

They gave me a funny look.

"Everyone _else_is fine. You look like you've been hit by a truck," Potter said.

"How do you feel?" Fred asked.

"Fine," I answered quickly. "I can't feel my left side though... why?"

"You broke bones in your upper arm in several places, your shoulder and your collar bone. It'll be numb for awhile but you will eventually get feeling back. The damage will take weeks to heal. You have to take it easy for awhile," Madame Pomfrey said.

I nodded to show I understood.

"A couple of ribs broke in the fall. You have lots of bruising though. I'm not sure where it came from. Falling in the sand wouldn't have done that," she said, looking at me in puzzlement.

"Finch decided to ram him against a pole a couple times," Fred spoke up. "Dirty players. Almost killed him."

I felt my throat closing up. The anger in their eyes. The concern. For the first time, I realized just how much my team cared about me. And I, them. They weren't standing around just to talk to me. They were all in a protective stance.

"Finch wanted to apologize earlier. He hadn't meant to hurt you that badly. But I wouldn't trust him. He still hit you with that bludger. And he could have caught you if he tried. Bloody Slytherine scum."

And for once, Professor McGonagall did not admonish them.

Instead, she looked at me with her most worried eyes. She had always liked me. Even as a first year. She was the one who was waiting for me to wake up when I had gotten hit in the head with a bludger in my first game. She was the one who always checked to make sure we were always ready. She always talked with me when I needed someone to talk to. Others thought she was cold and mean, but I knew better. She cared. Perhaps I was one of the few who could see through that shield.

"I'm glad you are okay Mr. Wood," she said with a smile. I smiled back as she left the hospital wing.

"That's right. All of you, go back to class. He needs to rest," Madame Pomfrey began to shoe everyone out. I was going to protest but suddenly realized just how tired I was. I waited until my entire team had filed out the door before letting myself fall into sleep - relieved, for the moment, that we hadn't lost yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters.

* * *

**WOOD POV**

Two days later I was cleared for release. I couldn't play or practice Quidditch for a _long_time, however, and that bothered me. A lot. Though when I thought about it, it made sense. One arm was in a cast, my ribs were wrapped and ached with every breath and movement, and I was walking about as steadily a three-legged dog. With that aside, I was perfectly fine! Maybe I could figure out some enhanced healing or something similar and...

"Hey Wood!" Fred and George Weasely rounded a corner and immediately walked up on ether side of me. This was quite normal in most situations when the twins liked to surround whoever it was they were talking to. Whether that was to keep them "in check" or just some strange habit that they had picked up together over the years, I did not quite know. Now, though, it was less a habit than a strange desire to protect me. Though from what, I wasn't quite sure, but I would never admit that it made me feel more secure and relaxed knowing they were there for me.

"Hey. Any news?"

At some point the cancelled game would be played again. I wouldn't be able to play in it so we would have to find a replacement keeper. That worried me too. It was hard to find someone able to fly a broomstick and also get trained to be a keeper. It wasn't quite rocket science but it had its rules.

"We've got a couple possibles. They're planning to reschedule the game next week. A lot of the professors are worried though because of how those cheaters played..." Oh yeah. No one wanted to get more people hurt. It wasn't often that someone got killed in a Quidditch game but I knew I came pretty close. Not many people survived falls like that, I'd been told. I was just lucky. For one, that it was sand, and not something harder. And two... if I had landed differently I would have broken my neck.

"Well, maybe we'll get lucky," I replied, but my hopes were beginning to dwindle. I hated being useless.

"Watch out... trouble's ahead," George muttered icily.

I wondered what he meant. Then I saw the hallway crowded with Slytherine, and Flint being one of them. I felt myself growing cold on the inside. How I hated them. Especially Flint. When they caught side of us, the sneering began. I averted my eyes and looked right ahead, refusing to give them the satisfaction of bothering me. Even as I limped gingerly along, I kept my head high and was relieved when Fred and George pressed closer on either side, their hands by their pockets as though they were ready to cast a spell at any moment. I was right handed, of course. But I was still very unsteady, which is why I kept accidentally bumping into or leaning on one of the twins.

"Oh look who it is. Survived? What happened out there? Forgot how to ride your broom?" Flint mocked, followed by several of his 'cronies', all of whom stepped in front of us, blocking the hallway, and forcing us to stop.

So much for an easy escape.

"Get out our way, Flint," George said with a hard note underlying his voice. Flint stared at him with distaste.

"Wasn't talking to you, Weasely," the Slytherine captain said as mockingly as he could. I glared. Or tried. I couldn't quite be sure how it was turning out. Flint turned his attention back to me.

His cold, mocking gaze traveled over my slung arm, took in my hunched, wavering posture, and the rings of tiredness from several sleepless nights in my eyes. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," I mumbled back. I kept shifting from foot to foot, trying to get comfortable, despite the fact that each leg wanted to collapse after thirty seconds of use. I wished they would move. I needed to find some way to lie down comfortably - which was nearly impossible now that I could feel everything - and sleep. I could have stayed in the hospital, but I wanted to be in my own bed. "What do you want?"

They didn't catch the hint.

More sneers rang the air. Fred and George both stiffened with anger.

I remained impassive.

"Sorry you won't be able to play next week. Hopefully you can find a keeper at least half as decent as you." Flint's voice was half a sneer. Then I thought...who needs a decent keeper? As long as Potter is on the team being seeker, we'll be all fine. As if he could read my mind, his expression went cold and he eyed me with clear disdain. Then he turned and walked away, his "boys" following him.

Fred and George heaved a sigh of relief. "Let's get going then!" They said with fake cheeriness. The tension in the air was enough to shoot flaming arrows.

We quickly moved out of that hall and headed up the stairs towards the Griffindor dorms. Finally. I was relieved at last o be somewhere that I deemed as a "safe" place with all of my friends and class mates. Percy had visited me whenever he could though he was busy being the responsible Percy. The rest of the team visited me at random times, as did a couple of professors. Even the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff captains visited! Fortunately, I hadn't been visited by any Slytherines. I'm not too sure what their visit would have been like, but considering what we had just walked through, it wouldn't have been very good.

"Oliver, you're back!" Percy says brightly, and seems about to be about to embrace me before he remembers my condition and shakes my hand instead. We were roommates. And though he was particularly difficult to befriend - given his prefect know it all attitude - I had managed to do it.

"I go back to normal classes tomorrow," I responded. I hate classes. They are so boring compared to Quidditch. That or I wasn't smart enough to understand anything that was going on in class, but maybe it was both. Probably. I knew I wasn't very intelligent and I also knew I needed... action... to pique my interest. Which is where Quidditch came in. I wondered if Percy would consider joining the time. Probably. He'd be afraid of getting a bludger to his study-packed head.

_Too many bludgers to the head,_ I thought, with a bit of a smirk. Rest for now, and then I would be all set for the next few weeks. I hoped.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters. Trying to get back to whumpage... I'm a freak. I like whump. :P

* * *

**WOOD POV**

After a couple days, I learned several things about myself. One, that I couldn't carry all of my books and works to class with only one arm. Two, that I had some really great friends to help me. And three... I hated being so restrained and useless. I loved free mobility and this was simply ridiculous. I couldn't move my arm, I had to lie a certain way, and walking was still difficult. I knew I shouldn't be complaining, because I should - in all the reality of things - be dead, but it couldn't be helped. It was so frustrating.

Today, everyone was taking a trip to Hogsmeade. I was trying to decide whether to go or not. On one hand, I would rather lay in bed. On the other, virtually everyone was going and I didn't want to be left here alone.

In the end, I decided I would go. Might as well, after all. Since the Quidditch game, I had not been left alone once. Wherever I went, there was at least one person with me. Someone on my team, Percy, or another person on the Griffindor team. Sometimes the other captains - except Slytherine - would go with me too, which was strange. They were both nice though. Which was strange... I would never have expected enemies. Wow. Was that what I thought of everyone who was from a different class? Enemies? Well, surely we went up against them in Quidditch and class points. But they were all just students with personality similar to the ones we had.

I shook my head to clear if of annoying thoughts.

"Morning Oliver," Percy came back from showering, dressed in his finest travelling robes. He always got up at insanely early times, which I did not unless there was Quidditch practice or a game. He was crazy. Who in their right mind got up two hours earlier than they needed to every single day?

"Morning" I said, sitting up slowly and wincing as I did so. The pain had actually gone down a little, but it was always worse in the morning from stiffening.

"You coming to Hogsmeade?" Percy asked, and his eyes actually seemed to wait for an answer.

"Yes," I said, finally coming to a decision. It'd be much more fun there than here. There I could spend time with everyone else, doing something other than sleeping or going to classes. I didn't study. Studying is for nerds like Percy - and I meant that with all the affection I could put in towards my book-loving friend. I respected that quality though I didn't understand it. What was so fun about studying? I never got much excitement in getting back grades. Maybe if I got good grades I'd be excited. I might try that sometime.

"Great!" Percy's face lit up as good as his usually strict expression could. "Everyone's getting ready to go. We're leaving in an hour," he added. I looked at the clock in surprise. How did it get so late?

"Crap!" I shot a bit too quickly to my feet and stumbled, leaning against the head stand. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Percy stiffen and look away. He knew I hated when people saw me weakened. I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, and put on my best cheerful smile. Turning back, I began to limp to the showers. Fortunately, I was so used to waking up late and managing to make it - close to - on time.

* * *

Hogsmeade was crowded with wizards and witches of its usual capacity. Too full. I looked around, watching for other students and anything of interest in the shoppes. I rarely went anywhere other than the Quidditch shoppes though. I loved all of the stuff that they had. Broomsticks, quaffles, bludgers (hexed to be more safe), snitches and all kinds of things that a Quidditch lover like myself would ever want. Today, however, I was going wherever my latest escort would take me.

Currently, Percy was with me and he was going down a deserted road (because no one else was headed to where we were headed) to a _book store_. Apparently, everything else in Hogsmeade was nowhere near as important as a book.

I simply forced myself not to roll my eyes and go along with him.

"You know. Normal people go to the fun shoppes," I say, with a teasing grin. He glances sideways at me with a look like I had just insulted the greatest idea in the universe.

"We _are_going to a fun shoppe!" He responded as though he really believed it. He probably did.

"Of course," I announce.

"What are you two little Griffindors doing all alone out here?" A familiar mocking voice called out. I froze. Percy stiffened, sighed, then turned around. The prefect then proceeded to fold his arms across his chest. I turned as well.

Flint. Draco. Three other goons whose names slipped my mind.

My hand was near my wand. Percy had stepped forward a little, in front of me.

"Move along," he said calmly, in what I call his "prefect voice".

Flint sneered at him. Anger made me tense and wince simultaneously. I hoped we were just in for another mocking session and then they would head on there way. It didn't seem like that would be happening, though.

"I don't think so," Flint mocked. I heard the warning.

Too late.

_Locomotor Wibbly!_

Beside me, Percy hit the ground with a thump because of the jelly-legs spell. "Percy!" I called out in alarm, grabbing my wand, but knowing it would be useless.

_Expelliarmus!_ Pain jolted through my hand and my wand flew out. I turned and knelt down beside my friend, who was struggling unsuccessfully to stand. He reached for his wand, and like mine, it was cast away. Damn. With the Slytherines approaching, I knew something worse was going to happen. They had attacked a Prefect. They were't just going to joke around. We were screwed. We didn't have our wands. Percy couldn't even stand. I was next to unable to defend myself, with one arm in a sling, my broken ribs wrapped, and my body too sore to be allow simple movements without pain.

"What do you want, Flint?" I ask warily.

He kneels down in front of me with a smirk across his arrogant face, putting his close to mine. I force myself not to flinch away. I glare at him, wishing to hell he would leave. He responds with a light tap to my chest that makes me flinch.

"Don't touch him, you cowards," Percy snarls. He actually _snarled!_ And he insulted someone! I feel as though there has been a huge revelation.

"Oh shut up, Weasely," Flint spits. "Silencio!"

And although Percy tried to speak, no sound came out. I glared at Flint with hatred evident in my eyes.

"We have some... unfinished business," he says to me with a smile. Before I'm ready, I find myself dragged to my feet by my collar, sending shooting darts of agony through my broken collarbone and making me call out. He lets go, shoving me against the wall and clamping a hand over my mouth. "Shut up," he hisses, though he looks at me with something similar to interest.

"Get away from me," I snarl, trying to shove him away but to no extent.

He slaps me, hard, jerking my head to one side.

"I said shut up," he growls, but his voice is quieter now. "This is the perfect time to break the Griffindor keeper and captain," he adds.

I feel a jolt of panic.

I manage to slam my fist into his face before a knee catches me below my broken ribs and I collapse to the ground as if someone had cut my legs off.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters. Trying to get back to whumpage... I'm a freak. I like whump. :P

* * *

**WOOD POV**

A strong hand dug its way into my hair and wrenched me violently to my feet, making me groan in pain. When Flint stuck his face once more in mine, I wish I had the guts to spit in it. Defiance. But that would do my no good. Even my proud, exhausted brain knew that much. Looking past the group of aggressive Slytherines, I saw Percy half-huddled on the ground, holding his size and clearly winded.

"Don't hurt him!" I protested.

Flint slapped me again with enough force to jerk my head around.

"Just shut up," he growled at me. There is a long silence while he waits for me to obey or not. Then - "it would be a bloody shame if you were to be able to play by the end of this year. I think we'll do quite well without the Griffindor team leader and keeper getting in our way all the time. What do you think, Draco?" Flint asked smugly.

I watched as the little white-haired, pale freak came over to me. He smirked, though he looked almost... sickened.

"I agree." He pulled out his wand, aiming it at me. I jerked in Flint's grip, trying to pull away.

"Easy," Flint hissed.

I watched Malfoy uncertainly, waiting for him to do something. After a moment of thought, the Slytherine seeker lowered his wand and glanced almost bored at his friends.

"We can't kill him. And there is very little we can do to him. Broken ribs, broken collar bone, and a shattered shoulder as well as who knows what. Most we can do is try to prevent him from even _wanting _to play against us." The explanation felt very weak to my ears and I couldn't shake the feeling that Malfoy was actually trying to _protect _me. Why? He was Slytherine too and he had laughed when I had been hit in the head by a bludger last year and knocked out. Why was this different?

Fortunately, he being the only one on the Slytherine team with a clump of nerve cells larger than a raisin, his hidden point was lost on them. "Good idea," Flint smiled at his protege.

Pain blinded me for a moment as a hand found my broken ribs again. I could only cough and lean heavily on my enemies because I didn't have the strength to hold myself up. Closing my eyes, I wished to hell I could grab someone's wand and set the "stupify" spell on myself so I wouldn't have to _feel _anymore. No such luck. Another fist hit me, directly on a broken rib that had been healing quite nicely. In fact, it was almost physically back in place. The sickening crack and my dry heave that followed the explosion of agony told me it was completely broken again. I hit the ground, no longer being held up, and curled into fetal position, a pained whimper finally tearing from my throat as I struggled to breath in.

"Bloody pathetic," someone snarled above me.

Someone kicked me in the back of my leg. "Stand up."

Ignoring them, I tried to pretend I wasn't in this situation at the moment. There were several blossoming pains in my legs and back, and then a titanic agony raked my shoulder and the bones that had only just begun to knit themselves back together.

There were tears in my eyes. No. I couldn't let them fall.

"What in Merlin's name are you _doing_?" An extremely angry voice - familiar - filtered through the fog. Almost familiar. That voice never should hold such a note of emotion. Politeness, respectfulness, happiness, maybe. But never angry. Cedric Diggery was never supposed to get angry, being the calmed and most clear minded of all the people I had ever met.

But here he was. I could see three figures beyond Percy. The twins? Probably. My vision was blurred with pain and un-shed tears.

"Mind your own business -" Flint began.

_Petrificus Totalus!_I knew the spell enough to know that Flint had just been paralyzed.

"Let's get out of here!" The remaining Slytherines fled.

Diggery was kneeling before me in an instant and had rolled me onto my back, which only made me release a shameful groan of pain. "I'm sorry," Diggery said, with the genuineness that only he could put into everything he did. Fred and George were trying to talk to Percy but clearly did not understand why they couldn't hear his response.

"Silencing... spell," I mumbled through clenched teeth.

Someone mumbled something that sounded like "finite". I began to close my eyes, but Diggery's voice invaded my thoughts.

"Stay awake, will you? Need to know how bad you're... hurt." He said.

I would have responded but I found my thoughts scrambled and really didn't want to have to hold a conversation. Fortunately, Percy, newly able to speak, answered for me.

"They broke one of his ribs... and I think they hurt his shoulder too," Percy said, and he sounded angry too. Odd. He, like Diggery, never got angry.

"Okay... someone get a professor to deal with _that_." I'm pretty sure he's pointing at Flint. I let out a grunt of surprise and my eyes fly open as strong arms wrap around me and I'm lifted into the air. First thing I tried to do was protest, but it was extremely difficult to breath, as each inhale and exhale made my broken rib ache severely. Then I tried to struggle away, but even small movement my a tendril of pain fire across me. So that left me with nothing, except to stare up at Diggery with eyes caught somewhere between panic and confusion. Where was he taking me?

"Madame Pomfrey," Diggery said, as though if he could read my mind.

* * *

**DIGGERY POV**

I had never felt anger pulsing so potently through my veins. When I had walked around the corner - hearing some talking - with Fred and George Weasely following me... which they tended to do because they were trying to test a prank on me... I came across the most horrid sight I could ever find. Percy. On the ground. Bleeding from his face. Two people pointing wands at him. Wood. Curled into a ball on the ground, being kicked and mocked by several people - including Flint.

The curse I used was not one I would ever use on a friend or a normal person. But Flint deserved it. Every moment of pure terror at being unable to move or feel his body.

When I got to Wood I saw the pained look on his face and the way he flinched whenever he drew in a sharp, ragged breath. My stomach churned as I wondered what they had done to the Griffindor captain. Wood was a decent person. Fair - a bit too passionate and focused, but good at heart - and polite. Honest. And Slytherine scum were hurting him?

No. I wouldn't let that happen.

Giving a wide-eyed Flint the most disgusted glare I could manage, I lifted Wood easily off the ground - fortunately, he was as light as he looked - and had a bit of trouble trying to get my arm around the cast. He tensed in pain at the moment but it couldn't be helped. The look of fear in his eyes upset me even more.

He looked... so scared. So unlike Wood. I wanted to kill everyone who was involved on this for what they had done. "Madame Pomfrey," I said, hoping he'd understand I was not going to hurt him.

Not on purpose. The jostling couldn't be helped.

I just wished I knew a spell that could take the pain away.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters. Trying to get back to whumpage... I'm a freak. I like whump. :P Punishment? Alright! I can try that. Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

**PERCY POV**

I set my jaw as I looked at the unmoving body of Flint, who glared up at all of us with a similar expression of rage. I wanted to go beat it off his ugly face. Fred had run off to find a professor. George and I stayed to make sure the spell did not run out any time soon. George's hand kept twitching towards his wand. I was trying to stop myself from doing the same thing. How easy it would be. But I was supposed to be above that kind of thing. Rule breaking. It wasn't up to me to decide on what to do with Flint or everyone else involved. I could wish, though. In fact, I could picture it.

"Oh..." It was McGonnagal who Fred had gotten. I turned to see her staring at all of us, and Flint, with a hand over her chest and her mouth partially open, as though this was the last thing she had been expecting.

"Professor," I began, but she held up a hand to silence me.

"I expect all of you to come by my later to explain this all to me. And if Mr. Wood feels up to it, bring him too. As for you, Mr. Flint," McGonnagal slowly moved over to Flint, muttering the spell to terminate hexes or effects, and Flint could move again. "You come with me, and if you somehow manage to make it through the end of the day without being expelled, I will be amazed," her voice was almost biting.

An abnormally compliant Flint vanished with her.

My brothers and I all shared a long look of surprise and then took off towards the Castle. I was worried, about my roommate and friend, and I had heard the sound of bones breaking and cracking. I hadn't quite been able to see what happened, but I knew the sound. The sickening noise of fragile bone getting crushed or wrenched away from the other part of the bone, unnaturally and painfully. And then they had mocked him as he cried out with pain - and at one point, fallen to the ground. The rage filled me all over again. I had lashed out at one of the Slytherine "guards" and had gotten a swift kick in my stomach, effectively immobilizing me for a good awhile. I wasn't made for fights.

I wished the hospital wing wasn't so far away. I needed to know...

* * *

**WOOD POV**

I woke with my vision slightly blurred once more. I wasn't sure when I had fallen asleep, but the last thing I remembered was the hospital wing door. I wondered vaguely what had happened since I was out and where I was now. Of course. Stupid wondering. Where else would I be?

I was lying in the bed again, and there was once again a row of faces watching me expectantly. Fred, George, Percy and Diggery. I blinked. They all looked alright. So no one had gotten into another fight while I was out. That was good, and at the rate things were going recently, abnormal. It seemed fights and Hogwarts went along like chocolate and peanut butter (unless, of course, that person is allergic to peanut butter).

"Hi sleepy," Fred said with a smiley, as he was the first to notice me awake. The rest jumped, as though they were in a half-doze, and looked around in surprise. "Feeling better?"

"Second time this week, Oliver?" Madame Pomfrey asked from where she was standing by some unconscious student in another bed. "I suppose neither of them were your fault though. You managed to hurt your shoulder to the point of what it was before, and even worse, and there's a rib that was almost poking into your lung. I straightened it out. Your left leg is badly bruised so don't try putting too much weight on it for awhile," she finished, and then vanished from sight in a separate room.

The nurse had the ability to talk on and on and on and then simply walk away as though nothing had happened.

"If you feel up to it... Professor McGonnagal would like to talk to us," Percy announced. I blinked at him for a moment before deciding I could go. It wasn't like I was feeling any pain at the moment.

Trying to sit up, however, I could almost feel myself going pale. There it was. Ouch. Someone put a hand on my back to help me. Great. Now I couldn't sit up without help. Next, I wouldn't be able to open my eyes without someone being there to coax me into it. This is why I hated Slytherine with an even greater passion than before. I was going to kill them if I ever saw them. Or at least jinx them so badly that they will run crying home and never return to Hogwarts - out of fear.

On my feet, I suddenly realized what she meant about not putting too much pressure on my leg. It nearly buckled beneath me, and it was only because of my grip on the bed that I didn't hit the floor. Another pathetic trait about me.

Ever-so-slowly, I managed to limp out of the room, leaning against walls if possible, occasionally stumbling and being helped back up by one of my four - apparently - new best friends. It was good to have actual friends, though, I realized. Percy was the one who kept me, or at least tried to, from doing stupid things. Fred and George made my stays here quite fun and rather lively. Never was there a week when one of their pranks didn't make me fall over laughing - or fall over from being the one pranked to begin with. And Diggery, though not in my house, kept everything real, and honest and open. He didn't seem, ever, to distinguish between houses. I admired that open minded dedication. He was also, just nice.

And when we finally, after an awkward shuffling, made it to McGonnagal's office, it was a huge relief. Anything to be sitting back down again.

Though when I limped through the door and saw her rather angry face, I hesitated. It softened immediately when she saw us come in, but there was a guarded look in her eyes, as though something bad had just happened and she did not know how to tell us.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters. This is... my own idea. I can't seem to find any non-romance fictions based on Wood and Flint's... hostility... This is Wood centric. Whump. Takes place in a Quidditch match. Somewhere around first movie or second, not that I particularly care. Just know that Harry is really young in this... as is Wood in the grand scheme of things... WAYYY before the third movie. Will add more chapters. Trying to get back to whumpage... I'm a freak. I like whump. :P Punishment? Alright! I can try that. Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

**WOOD POV**

"What do you mean he wasn't expelled?" Both of the twins shouted simultaneously. I winced slightly, wishing they would cut it down a couple octaves. McGonnagal, who clearly didn't like being yelled at, apparently didn't care at that moment. Her expression was grim and angry, and she kept tapping her fingers on the desk, looking distracted. Percy went stiff beside me. I closed my eyes, willing my headache away.

"Professor Snape came by, said that Mr. Flint would be severely punished - as will all involved parties - but he will not be expelled," Professor McGonnagal had to stop and look away to avoid losing her temper.

"But that's stupid! They attacked a _Prefect_and nearly killed Wood!" Fred or George responded.

McGonnagal sighed heavily. "I am aware, Mr Weasely," she responded, looking rather despondent. "However, Professor Snape would not allow any of it. If you ask me, you all should keep a very careful eye on each other. Mr. Flint and his friends will not be happy to be receiving any sort of punishment," her voice trailed off in a bit of an ominous way. We all looked at each other. I realized my vision was slightly distorted and that everyone was blurry.

"Can't Professor Dumbledore do something?" Percy asked.

McGonnagal looked up at him and then shook her head while saying - "Professor Dumbledore is at the ministry on a trip to help them. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do at the moment. All teachers, however, have been notified and it is in your best interests to keep close to any professors."

Fred and George snorted. I knew exactly what was on their mind. They wanted to go and bring trouble _to_Slytherine.

McGonnagal seemed to realize this to and she gave them a stern look.

"Do not go looking for trouble, because I will assure you, you will receive it and more," she said, before ushering us all from her office.

* * *

News spread quickly through the Griffindor house, mostly through the help of the twins, and by the time I returned, I found the room buzzing with anticipation, anger and house pride. I wasn't sure what was going to kill me first. My headache, or all of this attention. Either way, I began to make the fastest escape possible, stumbling upstairs to my shared room with Percy. Somehow I got out of there and crawled slowly and weakly into bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. It was impossible.

My head was pounding so fiercely I wondered if I should go to the nurse. It felt like something was smashing violently against my skull, tearing it apart and ripping my brain to shreds. Grimacing, I let out an exhausted, pained moan into the pillow. Why did it hurt so bad?

I don't remember getting hit in the head. Though it wouldn't surprise me. I didn't quite remember passing out in Diggery's arms, either. Best never to mention that again though. Hopefully no one but the nurse knew about that. The twins might think it funny to spread around a rumour thought. I began to get up but the pain that lanced through my skull made me whimper and sink back down. Okay. Bad idea.

I wished I could fall asleep. Something told me it was going to be a long night.

After a time that I couldn't be sure of, Percy finally came up to the room. Every small thud of his step sent a renewed pulse to my brain. Cringing, I pressed my head into the pillow, seeking a cold spot to cool it. It must be on fire. There must be lava practically pouring out of my brain by now. Part of me wanted to say something. Ask for help. But that was a weakness I could not afford to give. I had already shown myself incredibly weak today over and over again, and I didn't need to embarrass myself any longer.

After what felt like an hour, Percy's voice broke the semi-silence, which was run only by the sound of my heart pulsing in my head.

"You're still awake."

Understatement of the year. I tried to turn my head but decided it was best to keep myself completely still. My head would thank me later.

"Yes," I responded.

"You've been squirming and groaning for about a half hour now. Headache?"

I froze. When had I been groaning? I hadn't even been realizing it. Whatever. He knew now. "Yeah," I admitted.

Percy stood, and then his footsteps thudded in my brain for awhile before he returned. Something refreshing cool was suddenly lying across my head and half of my forehead. It felt good. "Thanks," I mumbled quietly.

Percy was silent - probably for my sake - as he wandered back to his own bed.

Within another hour, I finally fell asleep. I'd need it for tomorrow.


End file.
